


Better Sheepish Than Sorry

by norcumi



Series: Nurturing Nature [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Transformation, Don’t copy to another site, Gen, Partial Transformation, platonoic bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 15:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18209918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: Just another day in the 501st: surviving the war, grateful locals that don't believe in climate controlled housing, and now THIS thing....





	Better Sheepish Than Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> [The reference photo I used for this](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:%27Macgregor%27,_owned_by_James_R._Dempster,_Ladyton.jpg), particularly since unlike my co-conspirator, _I had not known you call sheep that._
> 
> If you squint and you're inclined to see it, this could be interpreted as having clone/clone(/clone) relationships, but it was intentionally written as gen.

Fives had gone to bed tangled up in a pile with Echo and Tup. Most of the troops landside were sharing bunks; the locals were thick furred, thick skinned humanoids who believed everything was better in stone. It was nice that they’d loaned the troops barracks, but the locals came with their own insulation and fur, and at night the wind moaned off the plains at much lower temperatures than anyone liked.

Fives woke up in a cosy bundle of blankets that had just him and Echo. Things were  _ too _ cosy for Tup to have ducked out long enough to hit the ‘fresher – there’d still be the remnants of the cold draft instead of the cocoon of warmth.

So Tup had to have left a while ago. It took Fives another few minutes to figure out why that was bothering him. Tup didn’t have anywhere he had to be, no patrol or sentry duty or –

“Uh oh.”

Echo’s breath stilled for a moment, then he squirmed enough to look at Fives. “Uh oh?” he repeated, only the hint of sleep thickening his voice.

It would’ve been funny that all it took to wake Echo was an ‘uh oh’ if it wasn’t embarrassing. Fives was saved by how Echo’s expression sharpened. “Where’s Tup?”

“Dunno. Didn’t hear him leave.”

Echo frowned. “He said he was hitting the ‘fresher.”

Fuck. Fives might’ve been tired enough the night before to keep seeing things, those annoying flickers of movement out of the corner of the eyes that too much sleep dep led to, but the Jedi  _ had _ mentioned that if the men saw anything funny, they were to report it.

He couldn’t shake a bad feeling, and from the look on Echo’s face, his brother felt the same. One quick comm check, with no answer from Tup, and it was obviously time for some action.

Fives emerged from the blankets first, tossing on some basic gear for warmth while Echo tapped the blanket pile next to them, making sure someone knew they hadn’t all disappeared. Fives took point while Echo geared up, then they headed off for the ‘fresher.

Two ARCs was probably overkill for what Fives really hoped was just Tup getting pulled into a conversation, or helping some of the shinies through post-battle shakes, or whatever. Still, they knew better than to take too many risks.

Risky or not, they split up when the ‘fresher turned up empty. They kept constant check-ins through a quick sweep of the wing they were housed in, and it was just after one of those that Fives heard something funny from one of the storage rooms. It was a faint clattery noise, not mechanical enough to be a clanker, but not the familiar bump of plastoid armor plates.

Fives eased around the corner, blasters ready. There was something in the far side of the room, a lumpy blanket-wrapped figure that could’ve been anything from commando droids to a brother to a small Wookiee. “Hi, Fives,” the figure declared in a soft voice, leaving him sighing and sagging in relief.

“What the hell, Tup?” he asked, holstering his weapons and tapping a quick comm code to Echo. “You didn’t answer your comm. Are you ok?”

Tup made a noise, not quite a scoff or a laugh, that had a strange timbre to it. “No, not really.”

Oh. Oh this was great. Fives scooted closer, not sure what to do with that. “Oh...kay.” He stopped moving as soon as he saw Tup stiffened at his approach, hunching just a bit more under the blanket. “Vod, what’s wrong?” It couldn’t be injuries; he’d have seen that the night before. That sensation of something  _ wrong _ prickled along his neck, and Fives found himself hoping Echo would show up soon. He didn’t  _ think _ anything there was anything nefarious to whatever Tup was up to, but Echo was always good back up. 

The silence stretched out a bit longer, then Tup took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. “You know how the Jedi passed word around, that we needed to tell them if anything strange was going on?” He didn’t wait for an answer, pulling the blanket back like a Jedi’s hood. “I was hoping it’d wear off. Or was a dream. Or  _something._ ” 

Fives might have squeaked. He couldn’t swear one way or another. He was too busy staring. 

Something strange had  _ definitely _ happened to Tup. Long horns curled from the hairline to frame his face like one of the fancier Alderaan hairstyles Fives had seen once. The horns were fancier than an Iktotchi’s, nevermind placed all wrong, and apparently he was being way too quiet because Tup’s expression grew pinched.

“Does it hurt?” Fives managed to ask at last, settling awkwardly down next to Tup. 

He shook his head, going a little wild-eyed as that made the horns brush against his shoulders. “Strange. It’s all very, very strange.”

Fives nodded, not having the least clue what else to say or do. Before the silence could get any more awkward, Echo rounded the corner. It was a bit amusing that he glanced at Tup, tried to give Fives an exasperated look, only to skid to a halt as his gaze whipped back to Tup. He blinked, then tilted his head to the side. “Are those...hooves?” he managed in a strangled voice, pointing.

There was a faint ‘tip tap’ noise that was  _ not _ the sound boots made as Tup shuffled his feet further under the blanket. That only made it part further over his legs, revealing shaggy white and black fur that made a Wookiee look cleanshaven.

“No,” Tup blatantly lied.

They all blinked at each other some more, until Fives found his voice. “We...are definitely gonna need to tell the Jedi about this.”

Tup wilted, but nodded. “Skywalker, not Kenobi?” he asked. At their questioning looks, he pulled a face. “Hey, if it’s not about his Senator, he can at least keep a secret  _ without _ a lecture.”


End file.
